River, page 12
For a few moments Flamepaw hesitated, trying to find the right words. “I guess I’m sad,” he confessed at last. “And confused. I’m supposed to be this brilliant ThunderClan warrior, from a line of important ThunderClan warriors—so why do I feel so out of place? Am I just not a good fit for this Clan? Is that why my mother wasn’t there for me when I was a kit cowering in the nursery, worrying about the bad cat who’d taken over the Clan?”
Finchlight listened in silence, her eyes wide and glimmering with sympathy. “Our mother was heartbroken after Larksong died,” she murmured, touching her nose to Flamepaw’s ear. “It’s not that she didn’t want to be there for you; she just couldn’t. And then she was exiled—she couldn’t help that, either. She feels so wretched about it now.”
But surely the Clan could have stopped cats being sent into exile? If ThunderClan is so perfect, why did they let the false Bramblestar take over in the first place? Flamepaw asked himself resentfully. They should have realized he was no good when he started throwing cats out of the Clan.
He turned his head away, trying not to let his doubts show, but he was well aware it was impossible to hide anything from Finchlight; she knew him too well.
“It wasn’t Sparkpelt’s fault,” she repeated, with a firm but gentle prod in his flank. “We were exiled, after all.”
“I get that,” Flamepaw responded, then added with a stab of jealousy, “I wonder if you’re so much better than me because you got to spend that time with our mother.” Sparkpelt would have taught Finchlight all her hunting moves, and how to defend herself . . . It would have been so great.
“Hey, which cat says I’m better than you?” Finchlight asked with a comforting mrrow. “I passed my assessment first, that’s all. Anyway, I suppose being with Sparkpelt might have helped me learn my warrior skills, but she talked about you all the time while we were in exile. She missed you with every heartbeat. And I know that you will get closer in time. Just be patient.”
“I hope that’s true.” Flamepaw sighed again. “I just can’t imagine how it can happen.”
“Let’s not worry about that now,” Finchlight meowed. “Let’s concentrate on getting you through your assessment. Imagine that you’re—”
Whatever she might have said was cut off by an angry yowl from above their heads. Looking up, Flamepaw saw that Squirrelflight had just appeared from the leader’s den. She took a pace along the Highledge, then turned back to speak to Bramblestar.
“Your decision could leave ThunderClan vulnerable!”
“What decision?” Flamepaw whispered into Finchlight’s ear. “What is she talking about?”
As Bramblestar emerged onto the Highledge to join his deputy, he said something to Squirrelflight, his voice too low for Flamepaw to make out the words. Prickling with curiosity, Flamepaw began to creep cautiously up the tumbled rocks so that he could overhear better. Finchlight hissed, “Don’t be so nosy!” But Flamepaw ignored her, flattening himself behind a jutting rock so that he could listen without being spotted.
“Okay, a WindClan patrol strayed into our territory when they were chasing prey,” Bramblestar meowed. “But it was Crowfeather who was leading it, so what’s the big deal?”
“‘Strayed into our territory’?” Squirrelflight growled. “Their warrior leaped over the stream, for StarClan’s sake!”
“Crowfeather explained,” Bramblestar replied curtly. “It was a WindClan vole that swam the stream and climbed out on the ThunderClan side. It—”
“At which point it became a ThunderClan vole,” Squirrelflight interrupted. “But Hootwhisker jumped across and caught it. If our patrol hadn’t spotted them, do you think we would ever have found out about it?”
Bramblestar let out a deep sigh. “We’ve shared a bond with Crowfeather ever since we traveled to the sun-drown-place to find Midnight. And now he ventured into the Dark Forest to help drive out Ashfur. We know we can trust him; we don’t have to be suspicious about his intentions. If Crowfeather says it was a genuine mistake, I for one don’t doubt him.”
“They still kept the vole, though,” Squirrelflight snapped. “That was our prey, and they should have given it back. Honestly, Bramblestar, are you going to let them get away with it?”
Bramblestar heaved another sigh that seemed to come right from the bottom of his chest. “I had hoped we might enjoy a bit of peace, after all the trouble Ashfur caused.”
“There’s peace, and there’s letting another Clan walk all over us!” Squirrelflight snapped. When Bramblestar didn’t respond, she continued, “I think we should go to WindClan and at least let them know that this can’t happen again. It’s more important than ever to defend our territory after everything ThunderClan has been through. We can’t let other Clans think we’re so weak that we allow WindClan to steal our prey!”
Bramblestar gave an uneasy shrug. “I don’t want to fight with a cat who went to the Dark Forest for us,” he insisted. “Crowfeather is one of the Lights in the Mist. It would be wrong to forget the risks and sacrifices those cats made.”
“No cat who traveled to that terrible place will ever forget it,” Squirrelflight pointed out. She sounded as if her patience was rapidly running out. “I’m not at all worried about that,” she went on. “What we need is just a friendly—and firm—reminder to WindClan to respect our boundaries. Borders are important; we can’t have confusion over that. Don’t worry, Bramblestar. It won’t turn into a battle.”
The Clan leader still looked torn, as if balancing his deputy’s advice against their friendship with Crowfeather was just too hard. “I’m tired,” he mewed. “I’m going to get some rest. Honestly, Squirrelflight, it will all work out. I trust Crowfeather.”
His head bowed and his tail drooping, he retreated into his den. Flamepaw was irresistibly reminded of his retreat earlier that day, after his unfair criticism of the hunting patrol. This isn’t right, he thought, more worried than ever. And Squirrelflight knows it, too.
Squirrelflight stared after her leader and mate for a moment, flexing her claws in frustration, then gave her pelt a shake and padded along the Highledge to the top of the tumbled rocks. Flamepaw had just enough time to scramble back to ground level beside Finchlight before the deputy bounded swiftly down to join a group of senior warriors near the fresh-kill pile.
“I suppose you all heard that?” she began.
The warriors—Lionblaze and Sparkpelt among them—glanced at each other and shuffled their paws in embarrassment, as if they weren’t sure they should have been listening either.
“It’s no secret,” Squirrelflight went on. “I imagine the whole Clan knows about that stolen vole. Cherryfall, you were on the patrol, weren’t you?”
The ginger she-cat nodded. “I couldn’t believe my eyes when Hootwhisker leaped the stream,” she meowed. “Like, what are borders for?”
“Exactly,” Squirrelflight agreed. “So I’m taking a patrol to go to WindClan at dawn tomorrow. I need to talk to Harestar about that vole. He can’t think WindClan is going to get away with it, just because Bramblestar and I are friendly with Crowfeather.” She gave an exasperated flick of her tail.
Lionblaze’s eyes gleamed approval, and he let out a low growl from his throat.
“But we have to be careful, and not too aggressive,” Squirrelflight reminded him. “We don’t want to start a war with WindClan. I’ll do all the talking.”
As she spoke, Molewhisker cast an uncertain look up at the Highledge, where the Clan leader had disappeared. “Are you sure about this?” he asked Squirrelflight. “It didn’t sound like Bramblestar wanted us to confront WindClan.”
“It won’t be a confrontation,” Squirrelflight informed him crisply. “It will be a discussion. I don’t want a large group,” she continued. “Just one or two other cats, not enough to be threatening. Sparkpelt, I’ll take you.”
Sparkpelt straightened up, blinking with pleasure at being chosen. “I’ll be ready, Squirrelflight,” she mewed.
Lionblaze looked hopefully at the deputy, but Flamepaw guessed that Squirrelflight wouldn’t want him on this delicate mission. He doesn’t look like he’d be okay not fighting.
But he was surprised a moment later when Squirrelflight swung around and fixed him with her green gaze. “I’ll take you, too, Flamepaw,” she told him. “It’ll be good experience for you, to see how we conduct serious Clan business. It might help you pass your next assessment.”
Flamepaw felt a thrill of excitement shivering through his pelt. He had kept a few paw steps away from the senior warriors, sure that Squirrelflight would send him away if she spotted him listening. He had never imagined that she would choose him for an important patrol. “Thanks, Squirrelflight!” he blurted, straightening up and doing his best to look brisk and competent.
A moment later, all his old doubts crowded up on him. What if I mess up again? And should we really be going to WindClan when our Clan leader doesn’t approve?
The group split up, and Lionblaze began calling cats together for a hunting patrol. Flamepaw lingered to talk to Squirrelflight.
“Is Bramblestar okay?” he asked.
“Of course he is,” Squirrelflight insisted.
But her gaze flicked back toward the leader’s den, and worry prickled beneath Flamepaw’s pelt. He didn’t think she was sure about her answer. And what’s going to happen to ThunderClan if our leader isn’t okay?
Chapter 14
Wisps of cloud drifted over the half-moon, but the light was bright enough for Mothwing and Frostpaw to see their way as they trekked across the moor to meet the other medicine cats at the Moonpool. Far ahead, Frostpaw could just make out the figures of Alderheart and Jayfeather.
“What are we going to tell the other medicine cats?” Frostpaw asked her mentor. Mothwing and the senior warriors had been huddled in discussion earlier that day; Frostpaw had been quite relieved when her mentor had sent her out of camp to replenish the horsetail stocks. But now she felt just as nervous as the first time she had traveled to the Moonpool, though for a different reason. “About Mistystar being dead and Reedwhisker being missing?” she added when Mothwing didn’t reply immediately.
“We don’t need to tell them anything,” Mothwing replied calmly. “We’ll find Reedwhisker soon, so there’s no need to involve other Clans in RiverClan’s business.”
“But what if they see Mistystar in StarClan?” Frostpaw meowed. What if they see Reedwhisker? she added silently. She didn’t dare suggest to her mentor that Reedwhisker might be dead; she hardly dared think about it herself.
Mothwing looked briefly uncomfortable. “I hadn’t thought of that,” she admitted. Then she gave her pelt a shake. “From what the others have told me, they mostly meet with ancestral spirits from their own Clan. If they do see Mistystar, I’ll answer their questions. You don’t need to worry about it.”
It’s easy to tell me not to worry, Frostpaw thought as her mentor paused for a moment. That doesn’t actually help!
“In any case,” Mothwing continued, “tonight we’re going to tell StarClan about the changes to the warrior code that we decided on. That will be the focus of the meeting, and no cat will have time to ask too many questions.”
Frostpaw could tell that Mothwing wasn’t as confident as she was trying to appear. Her own nervousness was growing with every paw step she took nearer to the Moonpool. StarClan would surely disapprove of lying to the other medicine cats—and not telling them something important was almost the same as lying.
Still, it will all be sorted out soon, she tried to reassure herself. I just need to get there and talk to StarClan. Maybe our RiverClan ancestors will be able to tell me where Reedwhisker is, and everything will be fine.
Pushing her way through the bushes at the top of the hollow, Frostpaw saw that almost all the other medicine cats were already gathered around the Moonpool. Puddleshine and Shadowsight were the only ones missing.
She followed Mothwing down the spiral path, dipping her head politely to the other cats as she padded up to them.
“Hi, Frostpaw!” Whistlepaw greeted her, coming up to touch noses with her. “It’s great to see you again.”
The other cats murmured words of welcome, the warmth in their eyes showing Frostpaw how happy they were to have her among them. Frostpaw gave her chest fur a few embarrassed licks.
“I hope you’re keeping Mothwing in line,” Jayfeather meowed. “Mothwing, seeing as Frostpaw is the one who talks to StarClan, does that mean she’s in charge?”
Frostpaw didn’t know how to respond to that. There was a humorous edge to Jayfeather’s tone, but she couldn’t be sure whether he was joking or not.
“Frostpaw and I will help each other,” Mothwing replied coolly. “Just as Willowshine and I did. It’s only toms who get their tails in a twist worrying about who has more power.”
At least Mothwing didn’t seem to be offended by Jayfeather’s words, reassuring Frostpaw that this was just friendly banter. Probably.
But there was a sarcastic edge to Jayfeather’s tone as he asked Kestrelflight, “Eaten any good voles lately?”
Kestrelflight didn’t reply, though he narrowed his eyes and glared at Jayfeather as if the blind cat could see him.
What’s all that about? Frostpaw wondered, then gave an inward shrug. If there was something going on between the WindClan and ThunderClan medicine cats, it was none of her business.
While she was still wondering, there was a stir of movement at the top of the hollow. Frostpaw looked up to see Puddleshine and Shadowsight emerge from the bushes and race down the spiral path.
“Sorry we’re late,” Puddleshine panted as he halted beside the others. “One of the younger warriors had a bellyache just as we were about to leave.”
“Young warriors!” Frecklewish shook her head. “Always in some kind of trouble.”
The medicine cats settled themselves comfortably beside the pool and began to exchange Clan news. Frostpaw thought that everything they mentioned sounded really unimportant: an apprentice stung by bees in SkyClan, a wounded paw in ShadowClan.
“Thank you for your help,” Puddleshine meowed, dipping his head to Mothwing and Frostpaw.
“Our pleasure,” Mothwing responded briefly.
Frostpaw remembered meeting the ShadowClan cats beside the lake, and how she had found cobwebs to bind Hopwhisker’s wound. She hoped they hadn’t realized why Mothwing had made sure they stayed well away from RiverClan’s camp.
She wondered too whether RiverClan was the only troubled Clan in the forest, or whether the other Clans also had more going on than the medicine cats felt like mentioning.
“Did the patrol that came to ShadowClan find Reedwhisker?” Shadowsight asked Mothwing.
“Yes, they did, thank you,” Mothwing replied, her tone and her manner perfectly cool as she spoke the lie.
“Wait a moment,” Jayfeather meowed. “You sent a patrol to ThunderClan, too. What—”
“And to SkyClan,” Fidgetflake interrupted.
“And to us.” Kestrelflight’s gaze raked around the group of medicine cats before coming to rest on Mothwing. “So you sent patrols to all the Clans, looking for Reedwhisker. What’s going on, Mothwing?”
Frostpaw felt an unpleasant fluttering in her belly as she saw Mothwing begin to lose her calm demeanor. “Nothing is going on,” she snapped. “The matter is settled. Besides, it was warriors’ business, not medicine cats’.”
“All business is medicine-cat business,” Jayfeather muttered.
Frostpaw waited nervously for the other cats to go on questioning Mothwing, but though they still eyed her suspiciously, they said nothing more. Mothwing sat rigid, her shoulder fur bristling and a challenging look in her amber gaze.
Eventually Alderheart let out a long sigh. “Enough of this. It’s time to speak to StarClan.” As he and the other cats found their places along the edge of the Moonpool, he continued, “Remember that we will be presenting the changes we’ve suggested to the warrior code. We are to seek the approval of the spirits of our ancestors, and report back to each other when we’re done.”
The rest of the medicine cats stretched their necks forward to touch their noses to the surface of the pool, and Mothwing leaned over and whispered to Frostpaw. “Are you ready?”
Frostpaw nodded. “I’ll do my best.”
As she bent her head to the water, she felt almost overwhelmed by the glitter of the reflected moon and stars, as if she could fall upward into the sky. She was eager to speak with her ancestors, yet for a couple of heartbeats she hesitated, sheer nervousness freezing her.
Am I ready? she asked herself. Suppose our ancestors don’t like our plans for the warrior code? Suppose I don’t explain it right? What if I fail?
Bracing herself, she let her nose touch the water and felt the chill flow through her. She seemed to be enclosed in a shimmering circle, as if the spirits of StarClan were all around, yet not showing themselves to her. She wished that she could ask one of the other medicine cats if she was doing it right, but when she dared to glance aside, she saw that they were all deep in the dreams where they walked with StarClan.
Frostpaw touched the water again and closed her eyes, making a massive effort to concentrate.
“Please speak to me, spirits of RiverClan,” she begged, her voice quavering. “Your Clan desperately needs your help.” When no cat appeared to her, she added, “Is Mistystar there?”
There was still no response in words, yet now Frostpaw thought that she could see the forms of cats solidifying out of the shining mist. They drifted in and out of her vision, and at first she didn’t recognize any of them, though she felt a huge relief that at least they were there. Finally one cat emerged more clearly: a golden tabby she-cat with a spotted pelt and gleaming amber eyes. Frostpaw had never seen her before, but she had heard stories about the time when she led RiverClan.
“Are you Leopardstar?” she ventured, trying to push down her disappointment that Mistystar hadn’t come. But I’ve seen her once, she told herself. Maybe that’s enough.
